Say
by control of chaos
Summary: Really, how did he ever get into these situations? And more importantly, how was he going to get back out of this one?


Yes, I should be in bed sleeping off this migraine, or working on _Not All That Is Over Is Past_, but after watching _The Bucket List_ (a movie that everyone needs to watch) and listening to this song closing it off... I just had to type this up really quickly.

Disclaimer: Don't own Alex Rider (because if I did, he would've been in much more action and a lot less romance) or this song (because I can't sing worth shit) or anything else you might recognize. Except maybe your soul. ... But escaping the transition I'm attempting to do from this disclaimer to my Halloween cosplay as Crowley from _Good Omens_ (_NightmareWorld_ was Aziraphale!)...I give you the reason I never try to write one-shots or humor.

**"_Say_" — lyrics owned by John Mayer**

* * *

><p>Alex ran through the narrow hall, with a sheen of sweat on his brow and the feel of lead in his chest, throbbing with a heavy thump in his ears. "You might be taking this a little too seriously, you ever thought of that?"<p>

"I'll be the judge of that," a voice growled as he felt the tug of the long handmade rug being pulled out from beneath him. While he hadn't seen it coming, it didn't take him completely by surprise.

It was in his job description after all. Handling surprises, that is.

With a single graceful gesture, the teenager latched his fingers around a locked doorknob and swung through the fall. His feet touched lightly against a carpeted surface, and as they regained friction, his bare toes latched on to the fabric. He spun into a casual roll and wound up back on both feet like a spry cat. "Really, it was just—"

"Just nothing. You're a spy right?"

_Take all of your wasted honor_

_Every little past frustration_

_Take all of your so-called problems,_

_Better put 'em in quotations_

There was a dead silence, followed by a thud loud enough to sound over his heartbeat.

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

What sort of ammunition was this guy holding? And of all the things…_all the things_ that he had ever done, of all the missions he had done to earn the only perfect record in MI6, of all the incredibly stupid decisions he had made, and of all the crazy evils he had made those horrible judgement calls about, why was _this_ one the one that was going to end him?

"And? How does that change things? Aren't you in the same profession?"

Booted footsteps clunked against the ground as he got up from his pajama striped knees and dived into a dark room. He took something from the ground—too light to be much more than a distraction, but that was all he needed at the moment—and swung it with a soft thump at the man entering the halo of the doorframe. The tall, dark-haired figure beat it off with barely a flick of his wrist. "Rider, I'm new to this job. How have you managed your sterling record if you can't even steal from me?"

"Hey!" he protested. "'Stole' is a strong word. And you can't honestly consider that _little thing_ as—" Alex was cut off as a gloved hand grabbed his collar and dragged him up so the tips of his toes were barely skimming the ground. "I c-can't…"

_Walking like a one man army_

_Fighting with the shadows in your head_

_Living out the same old moment_

_Knowing you'd be better off instead_

"Can't what?" he purred.

_If you could only…say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

Alex pulled the hands and collar away from his throat. "C-can't-t breathe!" The fists didn't even loosen until the teenager pulled his knees up and lashed them into the man's stomach. He curled his legs back up to his chest as he fell loose, tumbling with a small bounce back down to Earth. The shadow lurking over him faltered slightly.

Taking the opportunity presented to him, he grabbed a piece of cloth—a blanket—from what felt like a bed and whipped them over the tall man's head. It worked better than he could have hoped. When his attacker slipped and became entangled in the bed sheets, Alex leapt on to his back and jumped off towards the door. In doing so, he purposefully knocked the man's head back into the bed with a muffled 'oomph' as he made his escape.

The man, in his flowing trench coat and wet trousers, didn't miss a beat as he stuck a free leg out. The teenager tripped, but managed to slam the door shut behind him. With a flick of his finger, the bedroom was securely locked.

In the ominously quiet hallway, he raised his hands up behind his head as he fought to regain his breath and leaned against the off-white frame. A gust of air whipped through the house through the open door, forgotten and abandoned in their sudden scuffle. If it had been any colder, Alex expected that his breath would have been small puffs of mist in the just-above-freezing weather.

Unfortunately for him, the sudden cold breeze knocking the door back against its rusted hinges supplied cover for the steps of his approaching opposition. He didn't even realize what was happening until his hands were pinned to his back, his cheek roughly scraping against the bare floorboards, and the cold feel of steel was pressed against his neck. "You think that just because you're younger that I'll let you get away with such things? Under my _own roof_?"

He let out a nervous laugh. "I guess not."

"You _guess_ not?" The metal was pushed harder against his neck. "I can assure you, _spy boy_, that this will be the last time you try to get away with these things. Any last words?"

_Have no fear for giving in_

_Have no fear for giving over_

_You'd better know that in the end_

_It's better to say too much_

_Then never say what you need to say again_

His heart dropped as he realized there was no escaping this. He had been living on luck for so long, and even his lady had run off on him in the end.

_Even if your hands are shaking_

If the blood hadn't been cut off to his wrists, his hands would have been trembling like a small earthquake.

_And your faith is broken_

He wondered if his father and uncle would still be proud of him, knowing how low he had sunk.

_Even as the eyes are closing_

Alex turned his head to better see the brunette using his knee to interlock his wrists—

_Do it with a heart wide open_

—and opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, but…"

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

"…I just couldn't wait for them to get into the oven. The cookie dough just looked so good, and I wanted a little taste."

"You took half the batter," Ben hissed. "_Half of the batter_. That's petty theft!"

"Petty theft?" The spoon against his neck let up as Alex flipped over to kick the spy's knees out. "I'd hate to meet the poor teenager who decides to toilet paper your house. You'll try to get them in the nearest penitentiary for attempted murder!"

"You _stole_ my cookie dough! _Chocolate chip cookie dough_!"

"I think we need to reconsider this situation," the teenager muttered halfheartedly as the spoon dug painfully into his jugular again. And here he thought he was getting to bed early for once in his life.

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

_Say what you need to say_

"Oh yeah, I should probably mention that those cookies you had cooling on the counter… Well, I might've eaten those too."

This was one mission that Alex wasn't escaping in one piece.


End file.
